After posting for the first time in ages, I felt awesome. Energised! I went to bed later that night and my mind was whirling with ideas, which was annoying because I was tired but it was still better than having no ideas. Three years ago, when I first started this blog, I struggled so much with what to write about. I would trawl through the Daily Prompt desperate for ideas. I kept a list of links to appealing prompts saved in my phone to bust out when inspiration failed to strike me. And, back then, it failed to strike me often.

It took awhile but one day I noticed I hadn’t used those prompts in ages. In fact, nothing grabbed me when I looked through them. I had heaps of drafts lined up in WordPress and ideas would pop into my head on the bus, in the shower, before I went to sleep (which is where I got the idea for this post along with two others). It’s like your brain builds a natural curiosity about things or starts using writing as a way of thinking complicated (or sometimes very mundane) things through.

Not to say that I think it’s going to be easy from here on out but I definitely want to try and commit myself to writing more frequently. I might be busy but I’m not that busy that I can’t spare 30mins or an hour to do something I love. I can’t work all the time and do not much else. I tried that for six months and it fucking sucks. Take it from me, guys. Make the time, you’re never that fucking busy. You think you are but you’re not. And fuck, maybe you are but still, you can’t spare even 10 – 20 mins to do whatever it is you really enjoy? Go for a walk, watch your favourite program, play with your dog, whatever. You’ve got to have some ‘you’ in all that ‘them’.

So I have two more ideas for posts and we’ll see what else comes to me. There are other things I want to do besides write, like, I don’t know, maybe exercise. That’s fallen by the wayside as well. But let’s just start small. Baby steps. One day at a time. Plus I’m not super keen on getting back to exercise (to be honest, I’m that unfit I’m a bit worried) so we’ll just focus on the writing for now. It’s much less taxing. 😉

I’ve been seeing a lot of these adult colouring books around the place of late. Seen articles about them on the net. Part of me wants to get involved; I love a good fad plus anything that makes me feel a bit more kid-like and creative is always good.

I have a few cross stitch packs left over from when I decided embroidery would be a wonderful way to keep myself occupied during my free time (this was loooooong before I started studying). It did entertain me for quite a few weeks right up until the time my eyes started hurting and I realised I’d fucked up the count and didn’t have enough of a certain thread left and was just generally shitty at sewing. So they are now gathering dust in the cupboard under our bookcase. Money well spent!

So colouring books are probably not the best idea for me. They look like fun. They’re wonderfully intricate and I can just imagine how fantastic they look when all filled in by actual adults who are able to stay between the lines. I told myself, “Go on, get one. You’ll love it.” But I won’t, I’ll be honest, even as a child I wasn’t a massive fan of colouring in.

I remember this one particular time in Grade One when we had the principal, Mrs Bourke (can’t believe I remember her name!), standing in for our regular teacher. She must have wanted to keep us quiet so she got us all cutting out pictures and colouring things in. I was sooooo bored. I made a conscious effort to do the worst possible cutting and colouring. I smeared glue everywhere. She was walking around looking at everyone’s work and congratulating them on their stellar efforts. That came to a sudden halt when she got to me.

I’m sure she entertained the notion that I’d had a mild stroke or gone feral. I was usually a very bright and compliant child but not today. Today cutting out and colouring in was not what I wanted to be doing and I was determined to make my feelings known. She wasn’t having it though. I remember she made me recut my shitty work and gave me new colouring sheets with strict instructions to “stay between the lines”, a command I’ve hated ever since, to be honest.

So there you have it. My rebellious nature and innate hatred of boredom has ruined me for what could be an enjoyable and much less expensive hobby than cross stitch embroidery. Or maybe I can forget about adult colouring in books and go dig out my dusty embroidery. Or maybe I don’t need another goddamn hobby; I have far too little time as it is.

For someone who’s ditched one of the most time consuming things in their life (uni), I still seem to feel very low on time. Granted, we do a lot of social stuff, which can sometimes take its toll often in the form of hangovers, but still there really is no excuse for me to feel so time poor.

This week the bus routes changed and things have been unpredictable to say the least. Some buses have been super late, others haven’t even bothered to show up. I have an app that lets you track them so I know for sure when something’s not quite right with the bus world. Being in a constant rush is never fun. I hate being late for work and, while Monday was a public holiday, Tuesday and Wednesday were total write-offs on that front. Buses didn’t show. Buses that were meant to get me there with time to spare didn’t. Aaargh! It’s such a shit way to start the day.

But today, things panned out a little better for me. I managed to get an earlier bus and then switched to the train to allow myself even more time to get in. Instead of rushing to cross the street before the little green man had popped up, I waited patiently at the lights. Instead of barrelling up and down the escalators, I stood and waited for the escalator to do its job. Instead of rushing, rushing, rushing, I strolled at my leisure. Sure, the extra exercise could have been helpful but fuck it! I felt entitled to a little non-hurry in my life. I love that feeling of knowing that, even if you take your time, you’re still going to get there at the appointed hour. Maybe even ahead of schedule.

Something else you can appreciate more when you’re not rushed is the world around you. Sadly, the weather has turned from glorious heat and sunshine over the weekend to cold, drizzly and windy from Tuesday onwards so there really hasn’t been that much to appreciate. Still, when I walked down the laneway to our house after work tonight, I noticed that the sky felt heavy and present and the air smelt like rain. I love that just rained smell (when you’ve personally managed to miss the rain). Little things like that don’t register when you’re stressed and on a mission to get somewhere.

Now that I (supposedly) have less to worry about, I want to be able to notice the little things that make life that little bit more interesting and enjoyable. If I can’t manage that when I’m study free, then what the hell is the point?

For the first time in about seven months, I’m able to read a book of my own choosing. Actually, let me rephrase that. I now have the time to read a book of my own choosing. At the start of the year, I foolishly carried a book in my bag with the delusion that I would have time to steal a glance at a few pages here and there. I did not and I eventually came to terms with this. But now I’m study free so it’s BOOK TIME, BITCHES.

And what have I chosen? Well, I have a somewhat longish history of choosing very depressing books after a long book drought. Last time, it was The Road by Cormac McCarthy. God, that was a dire book. Good but fucking grim as all fuck. This time, it’s The Colour Purple by Alice Walker and things aren’t starting out well for poor Celie. In fact, things are pretty grim indeed but I’ll press on. I’m intrigued. The girl’s got grit and I want to find out how she gets on. I saw the movie as a child but I can’t remember much about it so it feels quite fresh so far.

I’m mostly a fiction girl. I do go for the occasional memoir/autobiography, history book or Malcolm Gladwell style read but my heart will forever belong to fiction. I love losing myself in the pages of something I know has come from someone else’s imagination. Something totally (or partially) thought up and then written down with a storyteller’s flair and wonderful way with words.

I feel a sense of panic when I come to the end of a book that I’ve really, really loved; I don’t want it to end. It’s depressing when you have to put that book down and start thinking about the next. You cast about in a funk. How will I ever beat it? I was transported. I grew attached to the characters. I fell in love with the words. I didn’t want it to end. Everything seems pointless and bleak but you always find something. Even if it’s not the next book or the next, something always come along.

I’ve come across books that have so affected me I’ve read the last few chapters/pages literally sobbing because I know something terrible is going to happen but I’m not sure what (thanks a million, The Time Traveller’s Wife). And, yes, it may have been embarrassing to have my partner walk in on me in such a state and it may have been hard to read the pages while blubbering like a fool but I’ll take a book that makes me feel something that intense any day over something where I close the pages and forget what I read within 20mins.

It’s one of my absolute favourite feelings to be reading a book that I do not under any circumstances want to put down. After every page, I convince myself to read just one more page. And then one more. And oh better finish this chapter. And the next page is just a half page may as well read that too. And then next thing you know it’s late and you need to get to sleep otherwise you’ll be tired tomorrow but you don’t really care. You. Just. Want. To. Know. What. Happens. Next.

That’s what I love about books. They’re this alternate universe you get to visit for awhile and, at the end, you put them on your bookshelf and you can re-visit them whenever you want. Constant, papery companions that smell better and better as they ripen on the shelf (yes, I’m one of those Luddites that refuses to switch to a Kindle or anything like that).

I think it’s safe to say I’m looking forward to doing some more book reviews now that I have the time to read some books. 🙂

I came home last night in a massive panic. My uni text book hadn’t arrived (multiple fuck ups on the part of Toll delivery – angry phone call placed today). I had so much uni work to do. The later start time thing at work was a no go (at least for the next few months while I’m learning). I was feeling the stress of it all and not quite handling it. I got home, went on a rant about Toll delivery, sat in the bedroom on my own in the dark and then promptly took a shower (it calms me down).

My last post was all about time management and being productive so it will probably come as a huge shock that, after my shower, I sat in the bath for ages with my partner and then proceeded to watch hours and hours of Vikings. No uni work accomplished whatsoever. So much for priorities and stress and oh I don’t know being an adult.

It’s kind of the same way everywhere else in my life. I subscribe to a lot of blogs and get emails of any new posts direct to my inbox. I’ve gotten so far behind with my reading that up to a few days ago I had 200+ emails, 90% of which were blog posts I hadn’t gotten around to. I’ve since whittled that number down to 44 mainly by reading everything on the bus or on my lunch break. If you really want to do something, you make time for it, right?

By that logic, I clearly don’t want to do my uni work but can you blame me? Vikings and blogs are so much more interesting. Watching Ragnar menace people with his mischievous eyes and half-smile is infinitely more entertaining than online discussion boards and uni text books (not that I have one of those just yet – thanks for nothing, Toll). I have mastered the art of procrastination followed by intense panic and self loathing.

I’ve never worked part time and it’s a tricky beast. I’m supposed to work 25hrs a week (roughly 10am – 4pm-ish) but at the moment I’m regularly putting in between 2 and 5 hours a week extra. I’m getting paid for those hours but that’s not the point. I cut back to part time so I’d have more time for my studies but somehow I still feel just as stressed. Especially after pulling together my new study planner – holy shit, I’m scared.

Now I’m pretty sure my hours will drop over the coming months. It’s just that I’m learning now so tasks are taking me longer and I need to fix things and bring them up to date (e.g. the accounts and the systems they use in the office) so that’s taking up a fair bit of my time. I’ve never done accounts before and my boss’ stuff is so complicated (lots of transfers and inter-entity invoicing) and so far behind that my brain hurts trying to figure it all out. I know I’ll get there but right now… phew. It’s tough. Lucky he’s very patient and not expecting me to know it all.

So I finish work, get home and spend the remaining time I have on my uni work. I don’t start work til 10am so I try and get my blogging done before then but that doesn’t always happen (as you can attest to). A few weeks ago, my boss suggested that I start later and I thought about it and I think I’d like to start at maybe 12pm and finish at 6pm-ish. I just need to float the idea with my other boss but getting them both in the same room is tricky.

If I start at midday, who knows, I might even get to the gym?! Stranger things have happened. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves though, they have to say yes first. And then of course there’s all the social stuff I want to do. I only work one night at the bar now so, in theory, I have six nights a week free. NOPE! I need to save some of those nights for uni work. Plus we don’t have a free Saturday until Sat 10 October. Totally booked up.

So yeah, time management is a hell of a thing right now. I feel like I’m always saying, “When I have this, then my life will be complete.” Like when I had a day job, I was suddenly going to have all this free time. It hasn’t quite worked out that way. I need to make the time for whatever it is I think’s important. What I’m trying to do is not rocket science, I just need to micro-manage the shit out of what little time I have left. So does that mean no more Netflix? God, I hope not.

It’s so weird to go from a job where you know everything back to front to where everything is brand new. I feel close to overwhelmed nearly every day at the moment. There’s so much to learn and I just want to make sure I do things right and don’t disappoint anyone.

There’s definitely no chance that I’ll be bored or lacking in things to do… at least not for the foreseeable future. Which is what I told them I wanted in the interview, right? So now I’d just better get my learning pants, hat and shoes on and suck it the fuck up. You wanted a challenging day job and now you’ve got it so get your shit together, Rivera. You’ve got this.

June will take me into my sixth month looking for a second part time job. To be totally honest, I never thought it would take this long. And yes, I have changed my criteria, what I’m looking, for a few times now so I suppose that’s a factor in this whole massively extended mission but, gosh, it’s still disheartening.

At least with what I’m looking for now, I’m able to find many more jobs to apply for and I get more call backs. I’m playing to my strengths, to what my resume can show experience for. I know that’s a step in the right direction, at least while I complete my studies. Things are much better now that I can actually find jobs to apply for where I know my resume ticks all the boxes. But still, my pride is hurt.

The hardest thing is that I’ve come close on a few jobs and, while I know I shouldn’t get attached to them, I still do. I’m one of those imaginative people that starts thinking about their future life and then I’m devastated when it falls though. I can’t help it, it’s just my personality. I get very invested in things way too soon in the game for it to be safe.

My partner recently had something similar happen to him. He got knocked back for something he really wanted (not a job, but similarly life-changing) and so we were both feeling grim and down on ourselves. Not that I was glad that it happened to him, but we were both able to comfort each other, to tell one another that what we’re looking for is still out there, we just haven’t found it yet.

And I do believe that. I know that he will find what he’s looking for. He’s that driven and dedicated to his dream. For me, I’m not as certain but I do believe it’s just a matter of time until I find a job that’s the right fit. I know I can do what I’m applying for, I just have to convince them of that. And I have to stay strong in the meantime, not get too down on myself. My job is out there somewhere. Fuck, I just hope I find it soon.

This is my second week back at uni and I’m trying to find my rhythm for how I’m going to get everything done. There’s so much to do: lectures, readings, discussion board posts, research, assignments… It’s all online but that doesn’t mean it takes up any less time (aside from maybe travel time). Oh and don’t forget, I still have to work and I’d like to actually get to the gym from time to time. And have a social life because I’ll be goddamned if I’m going to give up on that. A girl’s got to live!

I’m not too concerned. I know I’ll find my feet soon enough. It’s just all new with this part time work thing and I feel out of practice after having six months off. Also, I’ll have to adjust again when I find my second part time job and amend my waitressing hours. It’s going to be 20 months of adjusting and re-adjusting and managing my time so everything gets done and I don’t feel overwhelmed or beaten down by the sheer immensity of the task before me.

Time management is actually something I’d consider a strength. I’m very good at planning, sometimes it borders on obsession. I have my uni planner, a week by week list of everything that needs to be done for each unit and, as I work through it, I tick things off and feel very accomplished. I have my suitable gym classes pre-loaded into my calendar so my rock up and sweat options are clearly mapped out for each day, if I ever work up the motivation to actually go.

I was pre-planning my driving lessons with my mum but that’s fallen off in the last two or three weeks. Have to get back on that. I want to be able to drive sometime this year. It’s getting ridiculous having to flash my Learner’s licence when I want to get into a licensed venue. I’m far too old for that shit and the bouncer’s face confirms this.

At the moment, I feel a bit harried but I know by next week I should get back into the swing of things. This week just feels a bit rushed because we’re away down the coast Thursday – Sunday so I need to get all my uni work done by Wednesday. I really, really don’t want to have to take anything away with me and, even if I did, I know I wouldn’t get anything done. This weekend marks my official birthday celebrations so there is exactly zero chance of me watching any lectures, reading any texts or engaging in academic discussions when I could (will) be drinking and making merry.

Hey, at least I’m honest with myself. Time management… if done well, you can still ‘make party’ from time to time.

You know, I might regret admitting this in around a month and a half but, at this very moment, I’m actually looking forward to going back to uni. The free time I’m currently enjoying is amazing but it seems I need more challenge, more productivity. Hospitality doesn’t feel that much like work, I suppose. At this stage, it just feels like fun.

A couple of weeks ago, I spent a few hours selecting all my units for the coming study year and it was hard not to get excited about learning new stuff and developing my skills (yes, I am often a massive nerd). I had previously marked out which electives I thought I would do and it was quite surprising to see how much my preferences and interests had changed in just one year. As I read the various unit descriptions, I could start to see where my passion is, topics started to grab me and I felt a sense of purpose and a desire to get back to really growing again.

Still, I know it’s going to be hard getting back into the swing of things after having six months off. I have my fingers crossed that working part time will take some of the stress off but we’ll have to see how that pans out. I’m pretty confident that my unceasing desire to plan, organise and regiment will get me through. It rarely fails me, unless alcohol is involved. Damn alcohol, always ruining my best laid plans (thank god it doesn’t happen that often).